


Dangerous Games

by izayathirst (pecanroll69)



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Knifeplay, M/M, Masochism, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 04:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19143274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pecanroll69/pseuds/izayathirst
Summary: izaya wants info out of you, and he's willing to draw blood for it.pretty light knifeplay, just minor cuts honestly.afab gender neutral reader





	Dangerous Games

"A little birdie told me you have some valuable information on the whereabouts of one Jinnai Yodogiri. Sharing is caring, so fess up!" Izaya Orihara twirls his knife in his hand, waiting for his opponent's next move. The metal glints in the light with each rotation.  
  
_Is he really planning on stabbing me? Or perhaps he's bluffing? Fuck._  
  
You had never actually met Izaya, nor had you wanted to. You had heard stories and knew he was nothing but trouble. But here you are, face to face with the infamous information broker.  
  
"You really don't need to resort to violence. We can negotiate this, though it'll cost you. Not an insignificant amount, I admit, but it's certainly a bargain compared to any harm that might come to you if you hurt me. Simply put, I've got connections."  
  
He laughs, slowly walking closer. You're tempted to step backwards, but you stand your ground. This is a power play, a mind game, and you're not going to win by backing down.  
  
"I've got connections too. If you really think I would face any consequences for hurting a nobody like you, you're sorely mistaken. You're nothing special. I could kill you right here if I wanted to, but lucky for you, I don't. I just want information." He's looking down his nose at you, sizing you up. He circles you like a vulture. In the back of his mind, he considers how attractive you are. Now isn't the time for that, but he's not ruling it out for later. Your muscles are tense, and your nervousness is unfortunately evident to Izaya's experienced eyes: the minor twitch in your fingers, the way your eyes occasionally dart around cautiously, the accelerated rise and fall of your chest. He delights in observing all these gestures, but particularly the last one.  
  
He flashes you a lopsided grin. "Are you afraid of me? You look tense, my dear."  
  
_My dear?_ There's something attractive in the way the endearment rolls of his tongue.  
  
You scoff. "As if."  
  
He tilts his head and smiles. "You should be."  
  
His chest is within inches of your face now, and your breath stops for a second. Is this fear or excitement? You notice how good he smells. It's a subtle but slightly spicy scent reminiscent of cinnamon. You wish you weren't having inappropriate thoughts at a time like this. He runs the dull side of his knife along your cheek. "Hmm. No, I wouldn't want to scar a beautiful face like yours." You flush and he chuckles. The knife slides further down, tracing across a vein in your neck. "You've got a pretty little neck too. I wouldn't want you to bleed out, so this won't work." Your fists open and close, fingers unintentionally brushing his thigh. He grabs your wrist. "Hold still. Didn't your parents ever tell you to be careful around knives?" A self-satisfied grin lights up his face. He glides the knife along your collarbone, then further down, pressing into the soft flesh of your breasts. A strangled moan escapes your lips and his eyes widen.  
  
"You like this, don't you? I can't say I don't, but wow. How licentious, how absolutely scandalous!"  
  
You tense your jaw, fighting back the urge to punch him. "Why don't you try shutting the fuck up for once?"  
  
Izaya raises his eyebrows. His expression looks less playful and more dangerous. "Being disrespectful won't get you anywhere. It'll just get you punishment." He lifts your shirt, pressing the knife into the skin above your hipbone. You feel the cold of the metal first, then the warmth of your blood, and finally the delayed feeling of stinging pain after his knife penetrates your skin ever so slightly. You draw a sharp breath. It's not a serious cut, but it's just enough to draw some blood. His eyes light up as he watches the way your blood beads up and runs down along the blade. He raises the knife to his lips and licks your blood, eyes half-lidded and gazing into yours. Hungry. There's something primal, carnal about him right now.  
  
To your surprise, he lowers himself so he is eye level with your stomach. His dark eyes gaze up at you, and he licks the cut on your stomach. Pain and pleasure intermingle, the pressure on your open cut is irresistible. "F-fuck..." you mutter under your breath. He hears it and smirks. The warmth between your legs gets worse, and you feel needy, desperate. He gets back up, caressing the wound with his fingers and pressing into it slightly. You let out a pained groan, balling your fist up in his jacket. "Ooh, so vocal! I love it, you're really a load of fun!"  
  
He's about to touch your cut again, but a phone starts ringing. He sighs, an impatient frown appearing on his face. "Sorry to interrupt the fun, but I need to answer this." He puts away his knife in favor of his phone. Before you can decide whether you want to escape or stay for the "fun," he grips your wrist again, tighter than before.  
  
You admire the way his v-neck gives you a generous view of his collarbones. If you gave him hickeys, he wouldn't easily be able to hide them. _Shut up, this really isn't the time for that!_  
  
You tune into his phonecall instead; it might hold valuable information. His brow is furrowed at first, but his face starts to lighten up toward the end of the conversation.  
  
"Hmm... yes. I see. Excellent, thanks for the info." He hangs up, delight clearly visible on his face. "You're in luck, my little masochist. Someone else has provided me the information I need _pro bono_... Well, they owed me a favor, so perhaps that's not the best choice of words. Either way, you're no longer of use to me."  
  
He lets go of your wrist, but draws his finger to the cut once more, inspecting your blood on his finger before sucking it off. "Perhaps I have some use for you. Can you guess what that might be?" He moves closer to you and you can feel something hard pressed up against you. It's not his knife.

 

You scoff, feigning indifference. "You want to fuck me, Izaya? Wow, I wonder how many people get to have that honor, your grace."  
  
He leans in to whisper in your ear. "Drop the sarcasm, and get on your knees, slut." You can't resist following his command and get down on your knees, unbuttoning his pants and releasing his hard cock. You lick it slowly, base to tip. He shudders from the contact. "My, you're eager, aren't you?" You swirl your tongue around the head and look up at him before taking him in your mouth. You start slow, getting used to his size in your mouth. He grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes you down to the base of his cock. You moan around his cock, eyes closing in pleasure. He laughs, "I can be a bit impatient at times, but you don't seem to mind."

He holds you down on his cock a moment longer before letting you go back to your own pace. You speed up and attempt to go further down, although it proves to be a bit of a challenge. You run out of breath, and move to remove your mouth, but he pushes you back down at the last moment. A quiet, low pitched moan escapes his lips and you feel yourself getting wetter. He finally lets you go again, and you pull your face away. A trail of spit connects your mouth to his cock. Izaya's eyes focus on it intently, licking his lips. 

  
He suddenly pulls you up, kissing you fiercely. You melt into the kiss, fingers grasping his hips while his hands frantically explore your body: your tits, ass, hips, and back all blessed by his touch. He breaks away from you, dark eyes boring into you. "Get on the floor. Lay on your back. I want you right now." You obey and, though the floor is uncomfortable, your desire for the man above you outweighs your discomfort. He smiles down at your supine form, cataloguing the image of your body in such a vulnerable position for later.  
  
Izaya joins you on the ground, removing your clothes and his. He rubs his cock along your pussy, covering it in your wetness. "God, you're so wet. What a good little fucktoy. I'm going to make you feel _so_ good." You shiver at the combined degradation and praise. You moan as he slides into you, pushing in all the way and making your pussy feel satisfyingly full. He takes out his knife and holds it against your neck, his other hand holding your waist. You whimper, fear and arousal intermingling. Your pussy tightens around him and you can tell he's straining to keep his cool.  
  
"You seemed to like this before, would you like me to do it again?" You nod, but not too eagerly to avoid your neck pressing up against the knife. He tilts your chin up to look at him with the knife and you bite your lip. "You look absolutely adorable like this. You're art, my love." You flush at the praise, just in time for him to start thrusting into you. His thrusts are fast and hard, and you moan every time he pushes into you. The knife is dangerously close to your throat and it's thrilling.  
  
"I can't believe you're getting off to this. Fear turns you on, and that's fascinating to me. I'd like to, ah... study more of this desire of yours. Hands-on of course."  
  
"Y-yes, fuck, Izaya. I want more, I want this again."  
  
He smirks and moves his free hand to play with your clit. Your moans grow louder as he brings you closer to your orgasm. While your pleasure builds, he moves the knife down your body. It settles upon a spot between your bouncing tits. You feel his cock get harder inside you and you inhale sharply. The knife presses against your skin. All this stimuli overwhelms you, one little thing would send you over the edge. That little thing just so happened to be the moment Izaya cut into your skin. You moan his name over and over again as you cum, your pussy clenching around his cock.

He lets out a quiet, breathy moan, picking up the pace. His eyes follow the blood trickling from the wound he's created. "God it's so-- _fuck_ \-- it's so fun to cut you up. You're a hot mess, I wish you could see yourself. I almost came just watching the face you made when I dug into that soft, sweet skin of yours." He discards the knife and holds onto your waist with both hands. You moan as he thrusts faster and harder, ready to fill you up. You hear a litany of curses as he cums inside you, eyes closed and fingers almost certainly leaving bruises on your waist. His breathing is heavy and god it's so hot.  
  
Izaya pulls out of you and admires all the marks he's left on your torso, tracing them lightly with his fingers. "You're going to have a hard time explaining those to anyone else. Guess you're gonna have to be mine for awhile."

You smirk. "But if we keep doing stuff like this, I'll always be yours."

  
Izaya laughs, a dark, possessive look in his eyes. "All the more reason to keep marking my territory."

**Author's Note:**

> this is super self indulgent oops. I can't stop writing about this bastard! hope ya liked it!


End file.
